


my boy at my side

by lavenderandroses



Series: come to my garden: my jonsa blossoms [5]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Day 5: Family, F/M, Jonsa Spring Blossom Challenge, New Parents
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-19
Updated: 2019-03-19
Packaged: 2019-11-24 20:26:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,049
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18169535
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lavenderandroses/pseuds/lavenderandroses
Summary: The first day back at work after maternity leave is no walk in the park, Sansa finds. What waits at home makes it all worthwhile.Title from "Race You to the Top of the Morning," from the musical The Secret Garden, by Lucy Simon and Marsha Norman, and is also the song quoted in the story.





	my boy at my side

**Author's Note:**

> Some optional listening before or after reading:  
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xHJLfRZsI7w

It had been a long day. They tell you being a new parent is exhausting, but the weird schedules and short nights had been fine for several months. What was _really_ exhausting, though, was going back to work _after_ you had spent the last three months at home with your baby, being able to nap during the day and recover. Sansa cursed herself for being lulled into a false sense of security about how much energy she had. _I could have at least passed off the musical to somebody else_ , she chastised. _But no, of course I thought it would be a fab idea to dive headfirst into an eleven-hour day on my feet._

She sighed, leaning her head back as she waited at the last red light on her route home. What else was she supposed to have done? She was a middle school choir director, and if she didn’t come back now, she wouldn’t have enough time to get her students ready for their assessment and spring concert, and for some reason it hadn’t occurred to her last fall that she might be too tired in March to be the music director for the school’s theater show. She hadn’t intended to get pregnant a year ago. The beginning of December was literally the worst time for her to have a baby unless she had just wanted to leave her job altogether, which she unequivocally did not. But she _had_ gotten pregnant, and even if the timing wasn’t exactly the dream, she had still been ecstatic. So here she was.

It was already 6:30, past the time she had gotten used to having dinner lately, when she pulled into her driveway. She hadn’t even considered how much her stomach might be rumbling, especially since she had pumped her breastmilk several times during the day. The garage door opened into the kitchen, and her nose was met with the most beautiful scent she had ever smelled: lasagna, already cooked but still warming in the oven. She had also expected to find her husband at least near the kitchen, but she didn’t see him. Before, she would have shouted for him, but if the baby had fallen asleep, they’d both regret it.

Instead, she put her bag down on the counter, slipped her shoes off, and padded around the main floor. Some slight signs of baby-related chaos in the living room, but otherwise nothing. She started up the stairs, but paused when she heard faint singing. She crept up the rest of the stairs even more quietly now, not wanting to give her presence away.

“Race you to the top of the morning,  
come sit on my shoulders and ride.  
Run and hide, I’ll come and find you,  
climb hills to remind you  
I love you, my boy at my side”

Sansa lingered outside the door to her baby boy’s nursery and listened to Jon sing to him, a lullaby from her favorite musical. While Sansa was a professional musician, Jon had only ever joined along in a choir at Sansa’s request. He didn’t need the skills from his childhood music lessons in his day-to-day job as a software engineer, and Sansa sometimes worried that Jon felt self-conscious of his talents around her. As such, she hadn’t often heard him sing to their baby, though she sang to little Ben all the time. She wasn’t about to interrupt this moment.

Letting her eyes close, Sansa listened as Jon finished singing. It sounded like Ben had properly fallen asleep, so she started to tiptoe toward her own bedroom to change into her soft clothes. She was almost through the doorway when Jon called to her.

“Sans? How long have you been home? I didn’t hear you come in.”

_Caught_.

“Oh, just a few minutes ago. I didn’t want to make a commotion in case Ben was napping.”

Jon’s cheeks reddened. “Oh. Well. I was just putting him down now, but I guess you figured that out? Anyway,” he hastened to change the subject, “we can go eat dinner, I made a lasagna that’s ready to ea—“

Sansa interrupted him with a gentle kiss. “Jon. Why don’t you want me to hear you sing him to sleep?”

Jon leaned into Sansa’s hand on his cheek. “You’re so much better at it than I am. Sometimes I feel bad for him, that I’m the parent he’s got staying home with him and taking care of him, when you seem to do it ten times better than me.”

“Love, that’s absurd. He’s so lucky he’s got a dad who’s able to take care of him, and still work at the same time. I’m literally not any better at being a parent than you are. Don’t let the patriarchy get you down,” she said with a wink. “We’re both new at this, and you’re going to surpass me soon because of all the extra practice you’re getting. Take it as a win.”

Jon’s laugh was more music to Sansa’s ears, and he kissed her on her forehead.

“Fine. I won’t let your presence stop me from doin’ my thang around here. _Now_ can we eat? I’m starving.” He pulled her toward the stairs.

“Yes, but one question: when did you learn that song? I didn’t think I’d made you listen to the Secret Garden soundtrack that many times.”

He looked to the floor and back to the nursery door before he looked back to Sansa. “The first time you made me listen to it, on that road trip to visit your parents like six months after we started dating?” Sansa nodded, she remembered. “Well. I mean, I liked a lot of it, you know, but when I heard this song, I knew I wanted to sing it to our kids someday. So. I listened to it a lot when you were pregnant, and I sing it to him whenever I put him to sleep.”

“Oh,” was all Sansa could say, as she wiped unexpected tears from her eyes. If Jon weren’t standing on the stairs, she would have run into his arms, but that would have to wait. In the meantime...

“I suppose we should get to that lasagna now. Jon?”

“Yeah?” he turned around one more time.

“I’m so lucky you’re my family.”


End file.
